<?php
/**
 * <https://y.st./>
 * Copyright © 2017 Alex Yst <mailto:copyright@y.st>
 * 
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 * but WITHOUT ANY WARRANTY; without even the implied warranty of
 * MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE. See the
 * GNU General Public License for more details.
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 * along with this program. If not, see <https://www.gnu.org./licenses/>.
**/

$xhtml = array(
	'<{title}>' => 'I now have my costume.',
	'<{body}>' => <<<END
<img src="/img/CC_BY-SA_4.0/y.st./weblog/2017/09/21.jpg" alt="Purple flowers with a tree and a road in the background" class="framed-centred-image" width="800" height="480"/>
<section id="general">
	<h2>General news</h2>
	<p>
		I couldn&apos;t focus on coursework today.
		I think the mad rush yesterday and the day before burnt me out as far as school is concerned.
		Hopefully I&apos;ll be able to keep my mind on my work better tomorrow.
		In the mean time, I worked on getting my apartment ready to accept my mother&apos;s boxes.
	</p>
	<p>
		I brought the couch in and up the stairs, but I nearly dropped it on the way up.
		I hurt my hand and my leg making sure it didn&apos;t tumble back down and probably break.
		Once I got it up, I found there isn&apos;t space in the tiny area in which I was putting my couches and spare mattresses.
		I had to remove both of the two queen-sized mattresses.I can&apos;t stash them on top of the couches either, as the room isn&apos;t large enough for that; they&apos;ve got to be stored on-end like the couches.
		I&apos;m not sure where to put them now.
		The twin mattress still fits on top of the couches as planned, but I guess I&apos;ll store the queen mattresses in the entryway.
		For now, I&apos;ll put them in the spot my bike used to inhabit.
	</p>
	<p>
		I found that my shortest bin, which I suspected could fit under my bed, can&apos;t. The bed is just too low.
		I&apos;ll just keep that bin on the stack with the rest of them beside the bed.
	</p>
	<p>
		My mother passed me a tip through Vanessa the other day telling me that Saint Vincent de Paul&apos;s had witch hats and graduation gowns, but today was the first day I had time to actually check it out.
		Both were pretty lowly-priced, so that was pretty cool.
		I found an actual witch robe too, but the graduation gowns seemed like they were built better.
		One of the edges of the witch robe wasn&apos;t even hemmed, so it didn&apos;t look like it&apos;d last long.
		The graduation gown seemed like the better option.
		I also picked up a hat for everyday use, as I don&apos;t see cool hats for sale often.
	</p>
	<p>
		I worked the drive-through window for most of the night.
		One child that came through told me they loved me.
		That was kind of funny, and I returned the sentiment.
		Our new computer system is now having some major malfunction issues.
		Before, the system wasn&apos;t working well because of the obtuse way in which it works.
		But now, it&apos;s not even functioning the way it&apos;s supposed to.
		Hopefully that&apos;ll get fixed soon.
		We had a rush tonight, and with the computer system malfunctioning, while we also aren&apos;t able to accept money any more except through that system, we were bogged down with customers.
		We just couldn&apos;t process orders quickly enough.
		Most of the employees were stressing out about it, but I was able to calmly do my job and work around the computer issues.
		I swear, when I don&apos;t try to fight what I am, I have a very nice brain chemical balance.
		Between my low testosterone and my high serotonin, I&apos;m able to remain calm and happy as long as I&apos;m not directly attacked (for example, verbally) or a problem directly causes me issues with my life.
		I&apos;m not easily agitated, and work problems are like nothing to me.
		Even when someone&apos;s antagonising me, I spring back to being very happy these days as soon as they leave.
		I ended up needing to stay late because of the rush.
		I was taken off the till and put in charge of dish-washing.
		If not for the computer malfunctions, probably half of those dishes would&apos;ve been washed before I&apos;d gotten to them, but the broken system slowed us all down.
		No matter though.
		I don&apos;t mind staying late if it means I&apos;ll get more money on my pay cheque.
	</p>
	<p>
		I&apos;ve decided to start updating this site less often.
		My <a href="/a/canary.txt">canary</a> will only be updated when I update the site, and its shelf life has been increased from a week to a month.
		I&apos;ll probably update the site weekly during school terms, usually on a Wednesday night, and not update between terms unless my canary is getting too stale to last until the next term.
	</p>
</section>
<section id="dreams">
	<h2>Dream journal</h2>
	<p>
		I dreamed I was led to a small room with a bed and told to stay there.
		Soon, a few people came for a social gathering that I was to be a part of, but they were gone before I knew it.
		I opened one of the two doors and peeked out.
		The lights in the hall out there were off; everyone had either gone home or to other rooms to go to bed.
		I disobeyed my instructions to stay in the room, and headed out the other door, trying not to get caught.
		At some point, I run into another inhabited and lit room, one with Vivian and a small child.
		A bed that looks like it has only the metal skeleton of a mattress instead of an entire mattress is sticking out the door and across the hall.
		A second lit room is nearby, with a sign saying it belongs to the child&apos;s dolls.
		There isn&apos;t enough room to squeeze past the bed, but I try anyway.
		I end up pushing the bed slightly into the inhabited room as I squeeze through, and the bed is incredibly creaky.
		This angers the child, who thinks I&apos;m getting on the bed.
		Apparently, this bed is reserved for the dolls.
		I try to explain that I&apos;m only trying to pass, but they won&apos;t listen, so I give up.
		I find a walkie talkie, and bring it with me.
		From here on out, it seems I&apos;m no longer sneaking around the building as much, though I&apos;m still not wanting to be seen in certain places.
		There are groups of people communicating on walkie talkie, and it seems they&apos;re exploring the building too, which now seems to be a maze of a mansion.
		I think one of them is talking to me at some point, and ask what they said to me, but they don&apos;t have anything to tell me.
		They&apos;re not interested in me, as I&apos;m not in any of their parties.
		At some point in the dream, the walkie talkie I found is no longer a walkie talkie, but a laptop/$a[GPSr]/walkie talkie hybrid in the shape of a laptop, but with a large button on the back serving as the walkie talkie talk button.
		I find a forbidden boiler room that I somehow know I&apos;m not supposed to be in, and I find a small device on the stairs leading down into it.
		I&apos;m confused at first, but then I realise it&apos;s a $a[GPSr] to be tracked on another $a[GPSr].
		It was put there to help the master of the mansion find this room again in the maze.
		This part of the dream is a bit hazy in my mind.
		I don&apos;t remember what I did in the room, but I started hearing a voice from the talkie, much more loud and clear this time, that was actually talking to me.
		Eventually, they reveal their name to be JP, and they&apos;re the spirit haunting the laptop.
		Upon hearing the name JP, I immediately think of my father with those initials, but he shouldn&apos;t be a ghost.
		So I guess the name of my father&apos;s father, who shares those initials.
		The laptop tells me I&apos;m wrong, and that the spirit is the murderer every person becomes just before their own death.
		This makes no sense to me, as I don&apos;t believe everyone becomes a murderer before they die.
		In a bit, the laptop reveals it&apos;s not actually murderous, and is actually the ancient ghost of an someone that fell in love in the times of the Chinese dynasties, but was unable to win the object of their affection due to a wicked person named Goo forcefully taking their loved one.
		I knew that &quot;Goo&quot; was short for &quot;Googly-Goo&quot;, though at the time, I knew not how I knew that.
		Upon waking,I remembered that Googly-Goo was one of the villains with a similar history as that in my dream from an Oz book I read recently.
		With their love crushed, the spirit was unhappy for ages, but eventually, the computer age was upon them.
		They inhabited a computer owned by a mega-corporation, and by manipulating data through that computer, they helped make the corporation a huge success.
		They once again had a life purpose, despite no longer having life, and were once again happy.
		Somehow, I&apos;d come into possession of that computer though, in the form of a laptop, and that laptop was the one I write my journal entries on.
		I made a mental note to never plug that laptop into my external hard drive and to always back up everything I did on it to a $a[USB] drive and transfer it to somewhere more permanent.
		I&apos;m a bit paranoid, and didn&apos;t want to need to trust the spirit with my entire journal, which they could entirely erase in an instant if they&apos;d a mind to.
		Soon after this, I woke up, and I never got a chance to leave the boiler room.
	</p>
</section>
<section id="university">
	<h2>University life</h2>
	<p>
		My <abbr title="Web Programming 1">CS 2205</abbr> professor has asked me to be less detailed in my learning journal.
		Drats.
		I hate when my professors ask that of me.
		Oh, well.
		Not much I can do besides comply.
	</p>
</section>
<section id="docmod">
	<h2>Document modifications</h2>
	<p>
		On <a href="/en/weblog/2018/01-January/16.xhtml#Vivian">2018-01-16</a>, my sister, Vivian, requested that I replace all instances of her legal name in my journal with the name &quot;Vivian&quot;.
		She also asked that the name of the organisation she works for be redacted.
		This page was modified to fulfil that request.
	</p>
</section>
END
);
